


Bring Your Hunger (welcome to my table)

by alamorn



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Bad Guys Think They Made Them Do It But Really Just Enabled Them, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multi, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Pegging, Sex Magic, Sex Pollen, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:15:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23455381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alamorn/pseuds/alamorn
Summary: Jaskier always brings Geralt to the most interesting parties.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Comments: 21
Kudos: 229
Collections: Smut 4 Smut 2020





	Bring Your Hunger (welcome to my table)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theglitterati](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theglitterati/gifts).



> I saw your request for "antagonistic pegging" and knew I had to write this for you. Hope you like it!

Geralt tugged unhappily at his collar as they walked into the hall, already packed with people and loud enough to be a physical blow, and Jaskier slapped his hand without looking at him. "Stop _fidgeting_ ," Jaskier hissed.

"I'm not fidgeting," Geralt said sullenly, and settled his hands at his sides. He thought grimly of all the monsters he'd rather be fighting: drowners, certainly. Ghouls would be a nice change. A griffon, now that was a good fight, and the head looked fine strapped to Roach's side as he rode to collect his reward. 

This was better than a bruxa, he supposed, though perhaps there was one attending. He stirred with the hope, the first he'd felt since Jaskier had stuffed him in a doublet and forced a comb through his hair. Instead, as he peered around the room, he caught a familiar scent. Lilac and gooseberries. Yennefer.

He strode away, hardly noticing Jaskier's noise of surprise. He followed his nose until he found Yennefer talking to the Baron. She saw him, then deliberately continued her conversation without pause or introduction. That was fine; he could wait. He crossed his arms, ignoring the straining of the seams, and glowered at the Baron.

The man managed to ignore him for almost a full minute before he broke. "I don't think we've had the pleasure," he said. He was a big man, and his voice was big too, a deep boom. Yennefer looked disgusted. 

"A witcher," she said, "hardly worth your attention, Baron."

"A witcher," the Baron repeated, "seems entirely worth my attention. Perhaps _he_ will indulge my curiosity." The Baron strode over to Geralt and dropped an arm over his shoulders. He stank of sweat and wine and Geralt neither uncrossed his arms, nor eased his glare. "That witch has been refusing to tell me any stories greater than selling love potions. I assure you, _I_ don't need help getting my prick hard." He winked. It was an awful sight.

"She's done a sight more than that," Geralt said. 

"You know each other, do you?" the Baron asked, beginning to steer Geralt back towards the main hall. Jaskier had begun to play, and there was dancing. Geralt _hated_ dancing.

"I know everyone worth knowing," Yennefer said, falling into step on the Baron's other side, "and quite a few that aren't. You really should retain me."

"How can I, when you won't even tell me the greatest beast you've killed?"

"You have many monsters in this part of Velen?" Geralt asked dubiously. He'd been almost entirely unable to find work, which was why he was here, guarding Jaskier from his own mistakes. A light purse made a man undiscerning. 

"There are always monsters, if you know where to look," the Baron said, which was remarkably condescending, for a man talking to a witcher. Geralt stared across him at Yennefer, pointedly.

Yennefer ignored him. The Baron was still talking, but even with less than half his attention, Geralt could tell that he had said nothing yet about pay. "But war is coming, and that's always good for your business, isn't it?" he finished, and Geralt grunted. The man could take it as assent if he wished.

"Baron," Yennefer cut in, "I must remind you -- a sorceress can fulfill your needs better than a witcher. He can only kill monsters for you; I can protect your lands, your family."

"That's why you're still in Aedirn, isn't it?" Geralt said. "You did so well protecting the queen."

Yennefer rounded on him, fury rolling off her in almost tangible waves. "Excuse us, Baron," she said, gripping Geralt by the elbow tight enough to bruise. As they walked away, she hissed, "Does it amuse you to undermine me?"

"Yes," he said, smiling down at her. "You work best under pressure, don't you?"

"I don't need your help, Geralt, if that's what you think this is."

"No," he admitted easily. "Just wanted your attention."

"Well, you have it," she said, leaning in a little too close to speak to him. Would she try to control him again? The thought always sent a shiver of interest down his back. "Don't waste it."

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

"That's it? That's what you wanted my attention for? I'm looking for _work_ , Geralt. You might remember destroying my business."

"Business?" he snorted. "And they were about to force you out anyway, I just hurried things along a little. Or do you not remember that?"

"I was handling it," she said, then drew herself back to center. It was always a shame watching her gather her temper; he liked her best when she was being honest about just how angry she was. "Now, unless you have something _real_ you need me for, I have work to do."

Geralt didn't respond, and she didn't wait for him to, picking a target across the room and leaving him in a swirl of skirts and scent. He watched her for a moment, then looked around for Jaskier. Fortunately for Jaskier's fingers and voice, he was one of several bards hired for the night. Unfortunately, it meant that Geralt couldn't just look for the loudest noise in the room. It took him a moment to find Jaskier, though once he had it was impossible to lose him, in his eye-searing orange silks.

Geralt marked his spot, then started for the drinks table. He'd already dealt with entirely too much sober. Still half-focused on Jaskier as he snagged a mug, he heard a woman start talking to him. She sounded a touch too intense, which wasn't exactly new, around Jaskier, but made Geralt turn anyway.

The woman should have been entirely Jaskier's type -- young and busty and all over him. But something had put him off and he seemed to be trying to extricate himself.

"Sorry to have bothered you," the woman said, voice carrying, despite the noise filling the hall. "Here, take this as an apology." She pressed a drink at him and fled. Jaskier shook his head as she walked away, but he took a sip of the drink anyway.

Geralt frowned across the room. Something was wrong. Jaskier took another sip, and his scent changed, from the sharp sweat and wine of before to something pungently herbal and... oh. Oh _no_. Geralt started across the room, reaching Jaskier just as he tipped over onto the nearest person, a woman in her forties. Jaskier's hand went almost immediately to her bosom.

"How _dare_ you," Geralt heard as he lunged the last few steps, grabbing Jaskier and accepting his own groping with a forced smile. 

"My apologies, madam," he said, "my friend has had too much to drink and he forgets his manners."

"Well," she sniffed, "see he doesn't do it again."

"Of course," Geralt said, keeping his smile fixed as Jaskier squeezed his chest.

"Geralt?" Jaskier said, seeming only then to put the pectoral he was groping together with the face above it. When he looked up at Geralt, his pupils were blown so wide that the iris was just a thin ring of color. "You smell delectable. Let me write a sonnet to your cock."

"No," Geralt said, and scanned the room for Yennefer, catching Jaskier's hand as it crept towards his waistband. "You've been poisoned. Yen will fix it."

"I don't feel poisoned," Jaskier said. "I feel horny. Geralt, have you ever wondered how I seduce so many women?" He didn't wait for a response. "I'm very good with my tongue. Let me show you."

"No," Geralt said again, half dragging Jaskier with him once he spotted Yennefer. She was in the middle of a conversation, but Geralt said, "Yen, I need you. Now." 

She looked over, eyebrow arched dismissively, but when she saw Jaskier, he had her attention. Geralt wasn't sure if she could smell magic, the way he could, or she picked up on something else. She turned entirely away from the woman she'd been talking to with only an absent apology, and said, "Now, how did you go and get yourself drugged in the middle of a banquet?"

"I," Jaskier said, eyes fixed on her breasts, hand fixed on Geralt's rump, "am irresistible to a great variety of people."

"Can you fix him?" Geralt asked, pulling Jaskier's hand up. He had to use more force than he'd expected; Jaskier had quite a grip.

"Of course," she said dismissively, "but we'll need privacy. If I'm interrupted in the middle, I might destroy his mind." She didn't sound like that would bother her much. 

Geralt grunted. For less than a second he considered leaving Jaskier with her while he searched for a room out of the way, but it seemed too likely that she would go ahead and break Jaskier's mind if Geralt walked away. "You've been trying to worm your way in here. Do you have a room?"

She stared at him flatly, then rolled her eyes. "Of course I do. If I couldn't give a half-rate Baron to give me a room, I wouldn't be much of a court mage, now would I?"

"Dunno," he said, pulling Jaskier after her by the nape of his neck, shaking him whenever Jaskier reached for a stranger. "Don't know many court mages."

"More than most witchers," she said, a dig he didn't quite understand. She was angry, but he wasn't sure about what. It was a normal state of affairs, with Yennefer, so he didn't worry too much.

She led him to a room nicer than he'd expected, spacious and absolutely filled with the detritus of magic. "Thought he hadn't hired you yet," he said, nudging a crystal on the floor with the toe of his boot.

"He will," she said, unconcerned. "Throw him on the bed."

"Oh _yes_ ," Jaskier moaned as Geralt tossed him. He bounced, rolled over, and spread his legs, working on his laces immediately. "Have your wicked way with me, sorceress."

"You couldn't handle my wicked ways," she said dryly and went over to Jaskier, ignoring his hands and laying her fingers on his temples. "Cáelm folie." Magic rolled out of her, that always disquieting pressure change that made Geralt's ears pop, and Jaskier went rigid for a moment. Then his hands left his fly and went to her back, pulling her down and kissing her firmly, if sloppily. Geralt started forward, certain he was about to see Jaskier die a terrible death, but Yennefer just pulled away, bracing a hand on Jaskier's chest and shoving him down hard, ignoring the way he strained to reach her, tendons showing in his neck from the tension.

She frowned and tried again, a more complex spell he couldn't follow, rattled out, fingers glowing where they were planted on Jaskier's chest, lit from within. Jaskier whimpered, blinked, his eyes cleared briefly, and he collapsed bonelessly into the bed. "Gods," he said, "my head is _killing_ me. How much did I drink?"

"The question is _what_ ," Yennefer said, not quite paying attention to him. "It's resisting me. Did you offend someone very powerful?"

When Jaskier opened his mouth to respond, his pupils grew again, and his voice was husky. "I would offend you any way you wanted, madam. Has anyone ever licked that delicious arse of yours?"

Instead of killing him on the spot, Yennefer blinked for a moment too long. She still smelled of lilacs and gooseberries, but there was something else now too, magic and musk. Geralt cursed and started forward. Yennefer flung up her hand, though it was only a gesture and not a spell. He stopped all the same.

"Fuck," she gasped, swaying as she stood, eyes unfocused and aimed at her hand on Jaskier's chest. "Oh, that's strong."

" _Now_ will one of you fuck me?" Jaskier asked. "I really think I might die, otherwise."

"You'll just wish it," she said, then shook her head. "I can't break it like this."

Even from halfway across the room, Geralt could smell how wet she was suddenly, a wave of arousal that almost took him to his knees. Even unaffected by whatever it was, he wanted to be on his knees for her. "Yen," he said. "Talk to me."

"Someone really wanted to fuck the bard. Or wanted to watch him get fucked," she said, and her hand on his chest was clenching and relaxing, almost like a cat kneading a blanket. Jaskier purred under her, one hand tracing up her arm, thumb tracing circles on her inner elbow. She shivered under his touch, then looked up at Geralt. "Unfortunately, it seems I'll be the one actually doing it. Are you going to join, or just stand there like a lump?"

" _Finally_ ," Jaskier said. "I thought my balls were going to pop."

"If you keep talking, I'll tie you up and fuck Geralt in front of you," she said, working open the buttons of her dress.

Jaskier mimed buttoning his lips, then scrambled his pants the rest of the way open. His cock, when it sprang out, was deep red and dripping precome. Geralt took an involuntary step forward, and Yennefer smirked, shrugging out of her dress. "Hurry up," she said, and straddled Jaskier, positioning him at her entrance and sinking down, taking him all in one brutal motion. Jaskier made a strangled noise and went rigid under her and she laughed meanly. "It'll take more than that to get it out of your system," she said, and when she rose up and began to ride him, Geralt could see Jaskier's seed leaking out of her. He stayed hard though, and Geralt took another step, and then another, until he was standing almost behind Yennefer, so her shoulder pressed into his chest, scooping her breasts into his hands and leaning down to kiss her.

She tangled one hand in his hair and kissed him back, as ferocious in this as she was in all things. He reached for her clit and rubbed, fingertips brushing against Jaskier's pubic hair and the open fly of his trousers on every thrust down.

"Gods," Jaskier gasped, "gods, I need more, I need _more_."

Yennefer pulled her lips from Geralt's for a moment, resting her forehead on his collarbone. "I'll fuck you up the ass when you make me come," she said, clipped. It sounded more like a threat than generosity, but Jaskier groaned like she had offered him the world, and his hands were on her hips, he planted his heels and began to meet her pace with thrusts of his own.

Yennefer made a small, shocked noise into Geralt's throat, then scrabbled at the fastenings of his shirt as she shivered through an orgasm. When she had it hanging open far enough, she set her teeth onto his chest, just above his nipple, biting hard enough that he fisted his hand in her hair and pulled her away. She stared up at him challengingly, and he kissed her, then stepped back, pulled his shirt off entirely. 

"You made Jaskier a promise," he said, and she blinked, hard enough to shake some sense back into herself.

As she rose off of Jaskier, his seed dripping down her thigh, and strode across the room, she said, "It looks like the Baron was right. There is a monster, if you know where to look."

"She was very pretty," Jaskier defended, jerking himself off with one hand as Geralt pulled down his pants and crawled onto the bed. "A bit pushy."

"A _bit_ pushy," Yennefer said, "would not include slipping you succubus pheromones."

"Pretty," Geralt said, fisting his hand around his own cock and working himself to full hardness, "and yet you turned her down."

"I'm _working,_ Geralt," Jaskier complained, rising onto his own knees.

Yennefer snorted, and Geralt looked up at her, mouth going dry as he saw her pull out a glass phallus and a leather harness. "Is that what you call this? Begging to get fucked in the guest room of your employer's keep?"

"I'll be witty once you've fucked me," he said. "Until then, can we stop the banter? Put a little pin in it? Return to the topic later?"

"On your hands and knees," she said, striding back. "You can suck Geralt off if you need something to do with that mouth of yours."

"Oh, _yes_ ," Jaskier said and nearly lunged for Geralt's cock, not aiming quite right, so that at first it bounced off his chin. "Hello," Jaskier said, nuzzling Geralt's cock. "Valley of plenty _indeed_."

"Don't make me change my mind," Geralt growled and Yennefer laughed from where she knelt behind Jaskier, pulling his pants down to his knees and affixing the glass phallus into the leather harness low around her hips. Absently, Geralt wondered if she would use it on him someday, but then Jaskier licked a hot stripe up Geralt's cock, and he abruptly stopped thinking.

Instead, he twisted his hands in Jaskier's hair so he could guide his mouth, though he let Jaskier tease him a little first. When he tired of that, arousal a hot line from his balls up his spine, he grabbed Jaskier's jaw. Jaskier grinned up at him, unabashed, then opened his mouth and sank down, taking half of Geralt's length down in one motion. Behind him, Yennefer held his hip with one hand, lining up her glass phallus with the other. Geralt could feel her nudging at Jaskier's hole; with each gentle push, Jaskier swallowed Geralt deeper.

When she pushed entirely inside of Jaskier, Jaskier took Geralt down to the root. Geralt groaned, rubbed his thumb against Jaskier's throat and felt the pressure on the head of his cock. He groaned again, and looked down the length of Jaskier's back, saw Yennefer's long fingers splayed on the small of his back. Her other hand was beneath him, working Jaskier's cock.

Her sheets were going to be disgusting by the end of this.

The thought made him smug. She might try to run from him, but they were in her bed now. She'd smell them for days. 

Geralt waited for Yennefer to set a rhythm before he moved. Much as he liked the idea of fucking Jaskier hoarse, he didn't want to actually harm Jaskier. So he watched Yennefer snap her hips, the glass phallus glowing a pale blue when it emerged, felt the way she drove Jaskier up the bed until Jaskier's nose was brushing his stomach. When Jaskier choked, Geralt pulled back, the hot slide of Jaskier's mouth as close as he'd come to heaven. When he was all the way out, Jaskier rested his cheek on Geralt's hipbone, panting.

"Whatever you're doing back there," Jaskier said, sounding entirely fucked out, "don't stop."

Yennefer grinned, her teeth sharp and white beneath her lipstick. When she snapped her hips again, Jaskier gasped and jerked, hands clutching at Geralt's hips. "Don't take advantage of my better nature."

"You have the better nature of a snake," Jaskier said, then mouthed helplessly at the base of Geralt's cock.

Precome smeared on his cheek and lips. He looked debauched. He looked delectable. Geralt bent in half to kiss him, hard. Yennefer twisted her wrist and Jaskier came, gasping into Geralt's lips. He sagged forward onto his elbows, and Geralt left him there with a friendly pat between the shoulder blades and went to see what Yennefer was doing behind him.

The phallus, when she withdrew it, was thick and lit from within. When he pressed a finger to Jaskier's stretched rim, the phallus was crackling faintly with energy; it tingled to the touch. He raised an eyebrow at Yennefer.

"He likes it," she said, faintly out of breath from her exertions. He licked a bead of sweat off her nipple, and she pulled entirely out of Jaskier, ignoring his noise of protest, and shoved Geralt to the bed. He went down easily and she mounted him, wetter than she'd ever been, with her own fluids and Jaskier's. The sound, as she rode him, was obscene. And the sight of her glass phallus, bobbing between them, was more than that. All Geralt could do was lay back and let it happen. 

Jaskier, curled on his side next to them, made vaguely encouraging noises. "My, that's a lot of energy," he said sleepily.

Geralt had always been easy for Yennefer, and Jaskier had been much better at sucking dick than he had any right to be; he came quickly enough that it was almost embarrassing, and Yennefer rode him through it, through his oversensitivity, until Jaskier reached out and rubbed hard at her clit. When she came, she did so hard enough that she doubled over, bracing herself on Geralt's chest and panting. She puffed out a breathless laugh and slithered off of him.

"That should do it," she said, laying flat. "I've had worse nights."

Geralt snorted, but Jaskier was offended. "Excuse me? That was exceptional. Beyond exceptional. That was the sort of fuck that bards sing about, and I should know."

"You're not writing a song about that," Geralt said.

"You can't stop me," Jaskier said. "It's my right as an artist to use what the muse provides."

"The muse," Geralt said, "will provide a castration."

"You're a trial," Jaskier said, but without any heat. He subsided easily, and Geralt was left to bask.

He stroked the hank of Yennefer's hair that had fallen within his reach, Jaskier's head heavy on his thigh. His body was loose and relaxed, more so than it had been in years, and sleep was rising up quickly to take him. Yennefer's hair slithered out from under his hand as she sat up, back straight and legs pretzeled. He wanted to touch the smooth skin of her back, the humps of her bones, but he suspected she would twitch away from his hand and he didn't want to ruin the afterglow quite yet.

Yennefer didn't seem to have the same compunctions. "As fun as this was, I don't like magic-users I don't know drugging me. Jaskier, describe her."

Jaskier whined and stayed where he was. Geralt allowed himself to work his fingers into Jaskier's hair and massage his scalp. "I'm trying to gloat, woman," he said. "It's not every day I get double-teamed by the most attractive people I know."

"Then you should want to send a thank you. I'll deliver it for you. Describe her, Jaskier."

"Twenties," he said, scrubbing a hand over his face as if he was trying to jostle sense into his skull. "And high-born -- no pox scars, no calluses, tits like a milkmaid. Dark hair. She had... huh."

"Go on," Yennefer said.

"I can't remember her eyes." Jaskier sounded vaguely consternated by the realization.

"Were you too busy looking at her tits?" Geralt asked, still scratching Jaskier's head gently.

"No, I know I saw them, but I can't recall -- I don't know what her face looked like." Jaskier frowned. "That's funny, I have a good memory for faces."

"Not if they're spelled," Yennefer said, and rose from the bed. Geralt took the moment to admire the mess between her thighs, wish he had the energy to clean it up with his tongue, but she had a robe on before he could manage any movement. It was a new one, though just as thin and suggestive as all the others he'd seen her wear. "I'm going to go see why someone might want a bard out of commission--" she stopped abruptly. "We are all of us distracted. Who might want that?"

Geralt shrugged. "Haven't been in the area long. Probably not for me."

"I have been, but who would guess I would be distracted by the bard?" She paced for a moment, thinking. "A rival? An assassin? Beautiful and spelled and capable of powerful magic..." She tapped her lip with a forefinger, then stared expectantly at Geralt. "Well? It seems likely to be a fight. Get yourself together."

"I'm no good in a fight, can I just stay here?" Jaskier asked and Geralt couldn't stop himself from laughing. 

"Don't you want to see the end of the story?" he asked, pushing himself reluctantly upright and locating his clothes even more reluctantly. "Might make a good song."

Jaskier heaved a sigh. "And I suppose you won't tell me how it goes?"

"Seems unlikely."

"Oh, fine," Jaskier said, heaving himself out of bed. Then he looked down at himself, his clothes rumpled and stained with come and wet. "I can't wear this out."

"Do you want a robe?" Yennefer asked, arch.

"I want to _change_ before we go hunt down an unfriendly magic user."

"I don't know," Geralt said, keeping his voice flat. "I kind of like it."

Jaskier narrowed his eyes. "Are you _teasing_ me?"

"Are you two going to flirt all day, or can we go see if our host has been murdered?" Yennefer asked.

"I mean, I was having a wonderful time," Jaskier said. "Getting murdered sounds like his problem."

Yennefer rolled her eyes and opened the door. "Come if you will, but don't be in my room when I get back."

"Thought I already did," Jaskier said under his breath.

Yennefer stepped hard on his foot, then led the way out the door. Trading a glance, Geralt and Jaskier followed.


End file.
